breaking free
by f a l l i n g over a u t u m n
Summary: "You can't help noting the vulnerability in your move, but you curl up into Mother's embrace anyway." -— Narcissa and Draco begin healing from the War, after prompting from Luna. / for Xandua.


**Breaking Free**

"i don't know how i got here."

/

Narcissa watches you pleasantly, doing nothing but waiting for you to turn and notice her. You're standing next to Loony—Luna?—Lovegood. (Her first name feels _foreignforeign_ on your mind, she's sure). Her hand is clutching yours. Those pink lips lean against your blackened ear in whispers. Then, a soft kiss for your lips.

{"C'mon," she's murmuring. "She's looking for you." A frown marks your face.}.

/

"Go and don't let Nargles get you!" Her cheerful pitch resonates in your ear, making you glad. Yet, you don't get it because this war in its aftermath. Isn't she supposed to be upset about all the fatal injuries, all the devastation? All the deaths?

Should she not be weeping or darting between the standing parts of Hogwarts in search of her father, who she hasn't seen in months? She absolutely ought not to sit by you whose status now plummets deeper into negative the longer you linger. You can sense the evil stares burning white-hot unto your neck. You did things nobody can forgive you for.

She giggles at your snickers, though they don't sound like you at all.

Spin you do.

You _gathergather_ an inkling of Godric Gryffindor courage from God-knows-where. Steps taken come with hesitation. Thoughts inside you… make your head hurt so much. Heart is pounding. Weakness threatens to overpower you. Boisterous Salazar Slytherin pride? Not here. Love—

This is _officiallyofficially_the most free you've felt in your entire seventeen years. You're running. You don't feel your age. Lovegood's Rowena Ravenclaw smarts are telling you that's perfectly okay. Somehow, in the midst of all this, you've run faster. Are you…? [What's the verb for when lips pull back, displaying teeth? Oh, yes, a smile!] Yeah.

The mask you've had over your face is lifting. The paint is chipping on your masterpiece of a lie. The glue holding the pages of your tale together aren't sticking well enough anymore. The flowers of a new life are soon going to bloom and the weeds of the old will be pulled. The blueprints of reconstruction are underway.

Could you allow them through, Draco Malfoy?

/

Speed slows in front of Mother. She's crying, small trails travel slope down her _prettypretty _face. You look down. On impulse, she pulls you into her grasp.

"Auntie Bella," you croak with a starchy voice and watery eyes. You curse yourself. How many times are you going to allow yourself to cry over family who has never really loved you?

"Dragon, she's not going to make it home. I know."

Her light storm-gray eyes are boring into your blue-speckled silver; yours do the same.

Walls fall. This isn't supposed to…this can't be real. "She's Auntie Be—Bella. She needs to c-come ho-home."

"I know, I understand. "

"Does Father?" Narcissa shakes her head. "Tell him."

"I can't, my love. He's in Azkaban."

The tears are tidal waves. "Wh—"

You can't help noting the vulnerability in your move, but you curl up into Mother's embrace anyway.

It's the kind that has you feeling _soso _good. It's the kind that has you believing you did well. It's kind that has you believing in victory. It's the kind that has you believing everything you've done is right. Lips press breathlessly to your temple. There's dry blood there, but she doesn't seem to mind. This makes you glad: someone loves you again, someone cares.

"My brave, brave, brave boy," she croons quietly, patting your back rhythmically. For the first time, since the war began, you don't flinch when touched. "I love you, you know. Always have."

"I love you too," Somehow Helga Hufflepuff's loyalty has you asking to see your aunt. It's getting Narcissa to oblige.

The two of you head to the Great Hall together. An inkling of hope arises in your heart. You shove a schoolboy smirk at it. Gosh, it's been too long.

/

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"_You & me are still recovering."_

_(Colbie Calliat)._

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**AN: I've got Malfoy feels! :) Please don't favorite without a review. For Xandua, just because. This more rambles than a story, but I needed to write it; I felt idle.**

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-junejulyaugust


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